


a new, short lived hope

by brightclam



Series: rogue one lives, kinda [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, non con warning for mind rape only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightclam/pseuds/brightclam
Summary: Darth Vader is recalled to the death star, and he brings his rebel prisoners with him. In an unpleasant twist, Bodhi, Jyn and Cassian are now trapped on the doomed imperial station they had tried to destroy. Escape seems impossible, but they're going to try anyways.





	1. welcome to the death star

**Author's Note:**

> this is the follow up to surviving is surprisingly shitty. Updates will be slow for a while while I finish taking APs.
> 
> tw: description of injuries, dissociation

\-----------------Cassian pov------------–

 

They're marched into an imperial shuttle, much more luxurious than usual, and locked into seats. Bodhi watches the stormtroopers with a wide eyed terror that Cassian is, unfortunately, becoming familiar with.

 

When a trooper pulls the restraint over his chest, he's suddenly reminded that he does in fact have a hole burned through his flesh. Fortunately, blaster bolts cauterize the wounds they cause, so he's not going to bleed out. And, he hasn't died yet, so it probably didn't hit anything vital. 

 

But one of the straps on the restraints is right over the hole, putting painful pressure on the wound. He grits his teeth, a low whine working its way out of his throat. He wiggles his torso to the side, pushing the restraint so that it rests on top of his sternum instead of his shoulder.

 

The trooper straps Bodhi in equally roughly, and he shrieks when his burned back hits the wall. Cassian reaches out and grabs his hand as the trooper moves on to Jyn. Bodhi’s grip is crushing Cassian’s hand, but his eyes are open and darting across the ceiling, so at least he hasn't fallen unconscious.

 

Jyn hisses as the trooper straps her in, but she doesn't have any upper body wounds to irritate. She shifts uncomfortably on the seat and reaches out to Bodhi, petting his arm comfortingly. 

 

Their stunted attempts at adjusting to their new situation are smashed when Darth Vader storms through the shuttle door. His looming figure and harsh breathing instantly affects them. Cassian can almost feel Bodhi’s mind leave his body; the pilot's hand going limp and his eyes lifeless. 

 

But Cassian is too busy throwing himself away from the dark lord to pay attention to Bodhi. He restraints keep him from actually getting up and fleeing, but he pushes his body up against them, trying to get as far away from Vader as possible. Beyond Bodhi's still form, Jyn is doing the same; hands scrabbling at the metal holding her in place, her face pale and terrified. 

 

The dark lord doesn't even seem to notice them. He walks past them and into the cockpit. Cassian breathes easier with Vader in the other room, but the shuttle door had just closed, leaving Vader inside with them. Being in a small enclosed space with the sith for whatever amount of time their journey is going to take makes him want to break down and cry.

 

“Why is he here?” Jyn cries, her voice slightly hysterical. 

 

Cassian takes a couple deep breathes and reminds himself he doesn't have time to cry, he needs to plan. 

 

“Jyn, I think he's coming with us.”

 

Jyn lets out a low moan at that.

 

“But we have to stay focused. He doesn't seem interested in attacking us midflight, so we should be safe for now.”

 

Jyn’s eyes are still closed and her face twisted with pain, but she gives him a nod.

 

“Let’s make sure Bodhi is okay, try to bring him back to reality, and we'll worry about the future later, okay?”

 

Jyn gives him another, larger, nod and reaches towards Bodhi.

 

Cassian feels a bit of hope still clinging to life; as long as Jyn and Bodhi are managing, he can hold himself together to care for them.

 

\--------------------

 

The ship docks, finally, after an agonizingly long flight filled with anticipation. Why Darth Vader has left Mustafar, why he brought the rebels with him, they don't know. They don't even know where they are.

 

They managed to bring Bodhi back to reality, but he's been silent and sullen the whole trip. Jyn is fidgeting nervously and Cassian is drooping, exhausted, in his seat.

 

Once the ship is on solid ground, the cockpit door slides open. Darth Vader’s dark mass comes through, marching toward the exit hatch. A pair of stormtroopers follow a step behind him.

 

He doesn't look the prisoners as he speaks to the troopers:

 

“Take them to prison block 5, level 08.”

 

He hits the release button for the hatch and stalks out, allowing the rebels to breath easier. However, the stormtroopers approach them and force them to their feet, beginning a forced march.

 

Whatever ship they are in is impressive, a mash of utilitarian hallways and giant hangars. It's also swarming with imperials; stormtroopers squadrons, haughty officers, helmeted pilots. There's so many people in this ship, it must be at least the size of a star destroyer.

 

They're marched into an elevator by their guards, crowding a pair of irritated lieutenants. The entire inside of the elevator is covered in buttons. They're labeled with floors, going up to 200.

 

A star destroyer doesn't have that many floors, not even Darth Vader's super destroyer. 

 

Jyn and Bodhi are looking at the walls nervously too, and they probably share the sinking feeling in his stomach.

 

_ We're on the Death Star. _

 

The doors slide open and the stormtroopers push them out roughly. They enter a claustrophobic little room, full of a semicircular desk manned by more imperials.

 

Behind the desk there's a hallway, glowing sinister red and ribbed with alcoves. Cassian knows a prison when he sees one; all the alcoves hold doors to cells.

 

The imperial behind the desk sneers at them and lazily presses a button on the desk. 

 

“Incoming prisoners?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Darth Vader's, I presume.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Very well. Put them in cell 5J-1.”

 

The troopers push them around the desk and into the dark hallway behind it. The hallway makes Cassian nervous: it feels like they're walking through the ribcage of a giant snake.

 

After a long, echoing walk, they reach a cell that looks just like all of the others. The door slides open and the troopers shove them in.

 

Like their cell on mustafar, it's been modified to hold three people. There's one bed attached to the wall and two cots on the floor.

 

_ At least I won't be alone.  _

  
The door slams shut, echoing shockingly loud in the silent cell.


	2. opportunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really short but i'm trying to get back into my updating once a week schedule, so I needed to post what I had. Next week's update will be longer, I promise!

\------

As soon as the door shuts them into the suffocatingly small room, Bodhi curls up in a corner. Jyn paces nervously, meaningless movement that grates on his shredded nerves. Cassian moves around the cell as well, but with more purpose. He’s looking over the walls, testing the door, as if there might be a weakness that might help them escape. 

 

They all know there isn’t one. Bodhi wonders if it’s being on the dreaded Death Star that’s causing his frantic search, or if he’s just trying to distract himself like Jyn.

 

A few minutes later, Jyn has settled down and sat down next to Bodhi. Cassian has not settled, and is now glaring at the door as if he can burn a hole through it with his eyes. Bodhi considers going to sleep. The faint clanking of a stormtrooper walking by comes through the door.

 

“Look at the door!” shouts Cassian.

 

The captain is pointing at the deceptively thin door that keeps them locked in the cell. Bodhi and Jyn both turn to the door, joining Cassian’s intent stare. For a long time, they don't see anything.

 

Another trooper walks by outside, armored shoes making loud thunks as they walk. Just barely, Bodhi sees the grating underneath the door shake, and the door shivers. Bodhi wouldn't have noticed it, but Cassian has a sniper’s eye. 

 

Bodhi frowns at the door, wondering what the slight movement means. 

 

“The locking mechanism must not be functioning properly, allowing the door to shift—we might be able to open it!”

 

Jyn grins at him and lunges forwards. She lands on her knees and braces her hands against the door. She's quickly joined by Cassian. The door doesn't have any handholds, so Jyn and Cassian struggle to get a grip on the smooth surface. 

 

They try for a long time, tugging on the door from different directions. But they can't get enough purchase enough to pull it open. Jyn slumps to the side and curses quietly, too tired to rage at the uncaring metal. Cassian doesn't speak or move, but he stops pushing on the door.

 

Their despair hurts Bodhi, almost as much as his back does. 

 

_ Come on, you're the pilot, you were an imperial, you are an engineer… _

 

A pair of stormtroopers walk past. The door shakes again, slightly more this time. An idea sparks inside Bodhi’s mind.

 

“We need more force, to jolt the door more… if a large group walks past, or someone runs by, then it might shake the door enough for it to open slightly…”

 

Before Cassian can shoot his idea down, there's the familiar whine of blaster fire. It's faint, but still close enough to jerk them all into a fighting stance. Cassian pushes closer to the door, pressing his ear against the cold metal.

 

Bodhi moves down to their level, joining Jyn where she's pressed herself into the corner closest to the door.

 

_ If anyone comes in, this is the perfect position to jump them from. _

 

He feels a glow of warm affection for Jyn. Her constant hatred of their captors, her willingness to fight them anytime, and her knowledge of when and where to strike amaze him. 

 

He's always been meek, and now here's Jyn, a blade of a girl, always ready to strike. He brushes off the fact that she hadn't fought the empire before the Death Star was completed; after all, he hadn't either.

 

His guilty train of thought is cut off when there's yelling outside of their cell. A voice further away shouts something unintelligible, another voice very close to their cell responds. 

 

The voices are unmodulated, so not stormtroopers. Their tone is too wild and frantic to be officers and their words too casual to be imperial staff.

  
_ Rebels. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who that could be...


	3. A plan forms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a special guest pov! I didn't label it but you'll figure it out.

\-----------------Cassian pov---------------

 

Bodhi and Jyn come to the same conclusion at the same time, if not before, Cassian. He sees the gleam of hope renter their eyes. 

 

“HEY! GET US OUT OF HERE!”

 

Cassian watches Bodhi wince and clap his hands over his ears, pushing down the urge to do the same. Jyn’s screaming is no less loud when it’s voluntary. He waves a hand at her and she cuts off abruptly.

 

“They can't hear us—” 

 

Bodhi is interrupted by another hand motion.

 

-—the cells are soundproof.” He finishes in a whisper. Jyn responds at the same volume.

 

“Yeah, but if the cell door isn't sealed, they might be able to hear us.”

 

There are footsteps coming closer, and moving fast.

 

_ Running, not walking. Only one person, so probably not an imperial. A rebel? _

 

The person’s allegiance doesn't matter, only the fact that they're running. Cassian pushes his hand to the seam where the door meets the wall. Bodhi and Jyn fall silent, watching him as the footsteps get closer and closer.

 

The grate shakes as the runner approaches, then the door. Cassian keeps his fingers close even though it's uncomfortable. Who knows when they'll get this chance again? 

 

The runner passes by. The door jolts, and a opens a tiny crack. Cassian jams his fingers into the small seam, hissing as the door tries to close and smashes them. He replaces his fingers with his shoe, which complains much less about being used as a door stop.

 

Outside, he hears a cell door slide open. Then, blaster fire starts up, from multiple blasters this time. He peeks out the window, trying to see what's happening. There’s blaster bolts whizzing down the hallway, filling the small space with smoke. But through the white clouds he can see the outline of people.

 

\-------------------

 

It's not that Leia isn't glad to be out of the cell.

 

But there's blaster fire raining down on them, and only three people firing back.

 

The blaster fire echoes around her head, sending instinctive fear and remembered horror flooding through her. She can almost hear her guard escort dying all over again.

 

And that horrible rasping, getting closer… 

 

A blaster bolt burns past her cheek, almost taking off one of her buns. She's knocked out of her moment of terror and throws herself into the dubious shelter of an alcove.

 

The short rescuer is leaning against her cell, firing at the growing crowd of stormtroopers and arguing with his companions.

 

She presses her hand against the cell she's leaning against for support. She misses somehow, slamming her shoulder into it instead. She turns to look at it, offended by its apparent betrayal. 

 

There's a face in the window. She catches a glimpse of brown skin, dark eyes and a moustache before she is pulled away. The short rescuer yells as they almost get shot, and the firing is only increasing.

 

_ We're all going to die if I don't do something. Don't these idiots have an escape plan?  _

 

The other human curses as he ducks away from a shot.

 

_ Apparently not. _

 

She’s throwing herself across the hallway, already planning her insults and escape plan as she goes.

 

But the face in the window sticks in her mind: they had almost seemed familiar… 

 

_ Well, no time to worry about that now. _

 

\---------------------

 

One of the rebels scrabbles at the door of their cell for a moment, hiding from the hail of blaster fire. 

 

He recognizes the white robes and elaborate buns that denote an Alderaanian senator and stares in horror; but there's no doubt, Princess Organa is here on the Death Star, apparently being held prisoner.

 

She jumps away from the window and he shakes himself back to their own difficult situation. Bodhi and Jyn are watching him expectantly, but he doesn't pry the door open.

 

Jyn prods him: 

 

“Well? Let's get out of this hellhole!” 

 

Cassian press his finger to his lips; she stops talking. 

 

The footsteps of many stormtroopers echo through the hallway. He can see the squad through the window. They stop at the cell next to theirs. An officer shouts commands and the imperials move back down the hall.

 

_ That's right, go away, nothing to see here… _

 

Cassian cranes his neck to look at the end of the cell block; there's two stormtrooper standing guard but the rest have gone back out of the holding area. 

 

Cassian gestures at Jyn and Bodhi to stand back; they flatten themselves against the wall.

 

He starts to push open the door. Slowly, careful not to make any noise, he inches it open. As soon as he can fit through it, he slips out into the hallway. 

 

He stops Jyn as she tries to follow him: the more people, the more likely to be spotted. Then he moves from alcove to alcove, slinking down the hallway. 

 

Once he reaches the stormtroopers, he braces himself. 

 

He grabs onto the first, pulling them down and using the momentum to throw himself at the other. His boots hit armor with a satisfying thud and the second trooper goes down as well. Before they can get up or call out, he grabs one of the blasters they dropped and shoots both troopers. 

 

He rushes back to their cell and motions for Jyn's and Bodhi to come out. As they slip out of the cell, he stares at where the princess and the rebels were. There's a smoking hole in a grate. 

 

He points it out to Bodhi and asks:

 

“Where does that go?”

 

Bodhi shakes his head, matted hair flying. 

 

“Nowhere, just a garbage compactor.”

 

Cassian winces, but he doesn't know any way to help the princess now.

 

“That's where the other rebels went.”

 

Bodhi blinks, then grins hesitantly.

 

“We could follow them?”

 

The thought of more people seems to comfort him.

 

“No!” Jyn snaps.

 

Bodhi flinches and stutters:

 

“W-why?”

 

If I'm going to die, I'm going to die killing imperials out there—” she throws her arm out, a quick, violent movement, gesturing at the bleak hallways of the Death Star.

“—Not smashed into mush and mixed with garbage.”

 

Cassian finds it hard to argue with that. His sense of duty tells him to follow the princess, but he doesn’t see any way to make it out of there alive.

 

“I have to agree with Jyn.”

 

Bodhi shrugs.

 

“So we go.”

 

Cassian strips the armor off of the two storm troopers he shot. They should fit him and Bodhi. Then he moves out of the hallways and into the main room of the cell block, hoping to find a set of armor for Jyn.

 

He's in luck; there's a large pile of stromtrooper bodies in the main room. He's helping Jyn put on the last piece when Bodhi speaks:

 

“The blaster burns are really obvious on our armor, if anyone asks, say we're going to the medical center. That would explain why we aren't with our squad, too.”

 

Cassian grabs his blaster, trying to hold it like a stormtrooper rather than a rebel. He looks back at Bodhi and Jyn to make sure they're ready. They nod.

  
Cassian steps through the hole in the door and into the Death Star’s bustling hallways.


	4. jinxed yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for how long this has taken to update. I have so many plans for this story but I'm struggling to write anything right now. I'll try to do better.

\------  
They've been wandering for hours; they're lost amongst the hustle and bustle of the giant base. They have lost their way, which is unfortunate, but it has kept them hidden from the imperials for now.

 

But it's terrible; wandering through the ranks of the enemies, on constant alert, constantly afraid. The Death Star is very different from the small imperial bases Bodhi has worked on, so his insider knowledge is useless.

 

They're trying to find a bay with ships, any ships, they'd even take tie fighters. But they don't know their way around, and there are so many levels. They can't hack into anything, they don't have the skill. So they wander in circles, doing their best to avoid large concentrations of imperials.

 

Jyn has a field day taking down the imperials who do notice something off about them. He and Cassian could use their blasters to take them out, but it seems like a good idea to let Jyn get some aggression out.

 

Unfortunately, that leaves them with a trail of bodies to hide. Cassian and Bodhi drag the bodies into broom closets and small side rooms while Jyn takes care of the stormtroopers who get in their way.

 

They know they only have so long before they're caught. The trail of bodies, their broken armor; they stand out too much. They're working off of the small hope that they can find a hangar before they're caught.

 

An alarm echoes around the empty hallway they're creeping down. They freeze, sure that the alarm is alerting the base to their escape. But the giant ship shutters a moment later, as if something had hit it. Bodhi confirms what they're all thinking:

 

“Something is attacking the Death Star.”

 

Cassian frowns.

 

“Who? Why? It doesn't make sense.”

 

Jyn huffs impatiently.

 

“Who cares? It means they're distracted, so we might be able get out of here!”

 

“Or we might get blown up or sucked into space when our part of the Death Star is attacked.”

 

“Bodhi, can we try not to think about that?”

 

Jyn gives up on the conversation and plows forwards, reinvigorated by the shaking of the battle station. The small, dark hallway they're in opens up into a large, well lit thoroughfare where imperials rush to and fro. The alarm has stirred them up like a kicked ant’s nest.

 

The rebels slip into the stream of nervous people, looking like any of the other clumps if stormtroopers rushing to their battle stations. Cassian latches onto a pair of pilots, gesturing for Bodhi and Jyn to follow him. Where there are pilots, there are ships.

 

They follow the pilots into an elevator. The black suited imperials are clearly nervous; one of them taps their foot on the floor rapidly. The other fidgets, shifting from foot to foot. The rebels stay very still, afraid to draw attention to themselves and break their cover.

 

Finally the elevator doors open and the pilots rush out into the hangar. The rebels follow more slowly, staring around the bustling hangar for a ship that they can take. All of the warships are in use: tie fighters and bombers flying outside as soon as their pilots can enter them.

 

But there, in the corner, is a shuttle. It's a transport ship, with only a few weapons, so of course it isn't in use right now. Cassian steps out of the elevator and heads towards it with a confident stride. Act like you belong, and people won't bother you.

 

They make it across the hangar and to the ship before someone challenges them. A nervous looking imperial in maintenance black steps in front of them, tapping on their datapad. They aren't really paying  attention to the stormtroopers they're stopping, instead they're focused on the paperwork on their pad.

 

“This shuttle isn't scheduled to deploy.”

 

Behind Cassian, Bodhi freezes and Jyn tenses, ready to attack. Cassian hopes she’ll wait long enough for him to get a word in. He pulls himself up taller and tries to look more like a stormtrooper.

 

“Darth Vader has ordered us to prepare this shuttle.”

 

The officer steps back, pales, and looks up from the datapad. Cassian smirks underneath the helmet; the Darth Vader card always works on imperials.

 

“O-oh...go ahead then, sir.”

 

Cassian nods curtly and strides past him, struggling not to rush towards the shuttle, towards freedom. Bodhi and Jyn walk jerkily at his side, not as experience at hiding their fear as he is. He almost expects it to give them away, but they somehow make it inside without anyone stopping them.

 

Bodhi rushes into the pilot’s seat, already keying in the preflight startup. Jyn stumbles in and makes a beeline for one of the seats. Her ankle hasn’t healed up fully, she needs to stay off of it as much as possible. Cassian joins Bodhi in the cockpit, taking the copilot’s seat. He’s as good a pilot as Bodhi, but Bodhi has more experience with imperial technology.

 

Bodhi has the ship started in record time, the panels blinking cheerily with multicolored lights. Cassian runs his fingers over them, reading their positive information, relishing the feeling. He may not ever have this change again and flying has always been one of his greatest loves. Bodhi brings them up, tensely faking his way through a conversation with the control station.

 

As they coast towards the open door, filled with beautiful black space and shining stars, the ship goes silent. They’re all staring at freedom, so intently desperate they’re barely breathing. Slowly, so slowly, the ceiling disappears and is replaced with open space. They’re clawing their way back out of the beast’s throat.

 

The open space turns out to be a raging battle field, but that’s immensely preferable to staying inside the death star. Bodhi does his best to keep them away from both the rebel ships and the imperial tie fighters. Since they’re a mostly defenseless shuttle, the rebels ignore them and go after more dangerous imperial targets.

 

They’ve almost reached the edge of the battlefield, dodging stay laser bolts and exploding ships all the while. Rey watches the ships spin past the viewport is dizzying spirals and whispers: 

 

“Do you think they’re using the plans? Do you think they’ll destroy it?”

 

Her question is answered quicker than they expected. With a blinding flash, the death star explodes, sending dying sparks and debris flying. The ship is thrown back with the force of the shockwave, sending Bodhi and Cassian tumbling out of their chairs and smashing into the control panels. The damage done to them is minimal. However, judging by the loud crash when they were hit and the red flashing on the panels, the same can’t be said about the ship.

 

Bodhi pulls himself, pushing his hair out of his face, and shouts out an order:

 

“Cassian, it knocked out our hyperspace generator, we can’t jump to lightspeed! Go back and check the wiring.”

 

He’s already trying to fix the issue on his end, finger flying as he taps on the panels frantically. Jyn gets up, but doesn’t rush to help them make repairs. She stares out of the viewport, watching the few surviving rebels flee the explosion.  Tears gather in the corners of her eyes, gleaming in the starlight.

 

“They did it. They destroyed the death star. My father’s work is finally done.”

 

Cassia smiles at her. He’s glad that the terrible weapon is gone, and he hopes that Darth Vader died with it. Never seeing the sith lord again would be too soon.

 

“Now lets hope we can get ourselves home, huh, Jyn?”

 

She looks down, wiping at her eyes, and gives him a bright smile. Bodhi leans out of his pilot seat and calls back:

 

“We may be stuck here for now, but there’s no one out here with us. I think we might be in the clear.”

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you really, Bodhi?


	5. it's coming back around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a reminder that at this point they haven't eaten in days, are covered in untreated wounds, had their minds ripped open, and were drugged and tortured. They're in a bad state

\------

The hyperdrive is almost repaired. Jyn’s engineering skills are sufficient for most jobs, but inferior to Cassian’s and Bodhi’s. There’s not much she can do to help, so she’s been left with nothing to do but listen to them work and stare out the viewport. It’s rather gruesome, watching the body filled debris float by, but she’s bored.

 

There are quite a few mostly complete ships passing by. She strains to see through their cracked and dirtied ports, trying to spot the pilots inside. Seeing so many dead imperials soothes her soul in a dark way.

 

The modified tie fighter drifting by doesn’t seem that strange at first.

 

She leans forwards, trying to see inside. Only high ranking officials had modified fighters like that. She’s not seeing much, just darkness. The port is still complete, and the reflections shining on the surface make it much harder to see through. She relaxes back into her chair, giving up on seeing this pilot. It’s a shame; officers are the worst of the worst, and thus the most satisfying to see floating helpless and dead in space.

 

Then, like some terrible parasite squirming inside its host, something moves in the darkness. A humanoid outline, lighter black than the rest of the ship. There’s just enough light to see the thing moving slowly, leisurely, but not enough to make out exactly what it is. Whatever it is, it’s still alive.

 

A deep terror grips her, more intense than it should be. After all, it’s just some imperial pilot, right? 

 

Never mind that it should be dead after the explosion, never mind that moves in such a sinister way, never mind that she can feel it’s presence crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe.

 

Surely it’s just a human.

 

Then there’s a agonized creaking, like metal being strained past its breaking point. She jumps at the sudden noise, nerves frayed by the thing outside. Bodhi and Cassian come lurching out of the back, the ship’s sudden, impossible forward movement throwing them off their feet.

 

“Jyn? What happening?”

 

She can’t speak, her throat gone dry. The tie fighter looms closer and closer, as if it was being pulled in by a tractor beam. But neither ship has power for that.

 

There’s only one way the ships could be being pulled towards each other, and there’s only one man in the empire who could do it: Darth Vader.

 

The tie fighter latches on to their shuttle like a leech, the loud clanking of attaching docking ports echoing through the ship. She struggles to speak and finally manages to whisper:

 

“It’s Darth Vader.”

 

Cassian and Bodhi look at her with the terror and despair she know is written all over her own face, but lunge for the weapons cabinet nonetheless. None of them are the type to give up without a fight.

 

But, she thinks, as her hands shake on the blaster, she is getting so tired. So tired of fighting, so tired of hurting, so tired of being afraid. How much more can they take?

 

They crouch in the curve of the cockpit, the most shelter the tiny shuttle can give, and aim at the door. There’s a few agonizing moments of anticipation, filled with the slight clicking of machinery, and then the door slides open.

 

They open fire instantly, a hail of red laser fire pouring into the darkness of the docking tunnel. The blaster bolts are met with a different kind of red energy and skitter away, bouncing back and burying themselves in the shuttle’s wall. Vader blocks every shot, but they keep firing.

 

Jyn shrieks with a combination of fear and rage, adding to the din of battle. Cassian and Bodhi join her, a primal cry of desperation and defeat tearing out of their throats. It’s a last stand, an admission that after this, they might not be able to fight anymore. It bares the truth of the situation, recognizes that they won’t escape. Recognizes that the end is coming, one way or another.

 

Would she rather die or have him take them back? She can’t quite tell, not yet. But she’s sure she’ll find out soon enough.

 

Then the energy packs run dry and the blasters die, becoming useless chunks of metal. Their voices fade too, and they're left with only the sizzling of a lightsaber and the rasping of his respirator. Vader tilts his head, mask gleaming with the red light of his blade. The blasters fall from their fingers without his help; their hands have gone limp and shaky with fear. Bodhi whimpers, the noise soft but painful to hear nonetheless.

 

The blaster clatter when they hit the decking, loud in the silence. It’s almost comforting, to hear such a normal noise, not the frightening hiss of the lightsaber or the wrong sound of painful, respirated breaths.

 

“You have proven quite useful to me, Rogue one, in many ways. The journey back to the fleet in my fighter would have been...uncomfortable.”

 

There’s the strange crackle of his blade receding and Jyn can’t stop the sob from breaking free. It hangs in the tense air of the cockpit, a broken noise, half relief that the blade is gone and half a wish that it would just bury itself in their flesh already. She sobs again and snarls, her voice wobbling:

 

“Put us out of our misery, you bastard.”

 

She’s decided; better to die here than live through what’s coming. Unfortunately, it’s no longer her choice. Even the ability to die has been taken from them.

 

Vader glides forwards, settles into the copilot’s chair, and seems to consider that.

 

“I don’t think I will, Rogue one. I must admit, you’ve impressed me with you ingenuity and refusal to die. Escaping the death star is no small feat, especially after one’s mind has been broken into and scattered. Quite impressive.”

 

Jyn goes limp, the fight leaving her body. She leans against Cassian and he feels it too. The resignation, the realization that they aren’t getting out of this. If Vader could survive the Death Star’s explosion at point blank range, there’s no way they can escape, let alone defeat him. 

 

He tries to pull himself together, focus on his guiding principle: survival is alway necessary. No matter how much it hurts, survive. You’re no use dead.

 

But it doesn’t quite stick. There can’t be any purpose to this suffering, nothing to gain. How long can he stand it? How long until, like Jyn, he’d rather die?

 

Vader enters his commands into the panel and the engines roar to life. He pays no attention to the rebels next to him; he knows they’re no threat.

 

Cassian doesn’t try to stop him as he sets a course and engages the hyperdrive.

\-----

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they've reached a breaking point. Don't worry, this isn't going to devolve into a story where they have no free will and are helpless submissive pets. I hate those. They'll continue to resist where they can, but this is the turning point in the story.


	6. the executor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy as I promised a chapter! After this, the story follows the plot of the empire strikes back, so I'm going to mark this complete and start whole new work for that section. I'm sorry if it's annoying to have to go subscribe to another story, but I'm trying really hard to be organized. Thank you again for reading this far and I hope you keep reading!

\-----

Vader pays no attention to the rebels slumped in the back of the ship. They are no threat, and they haven’t tried to resist since he entered the shuttle.  He hasn’t restrained them; the force would warn him if they tried to attack again. Through it, he can feel the anger, fear and hatred pulsing within them. Their emotions are strong, making their fear an especially potent fuel.

 

They haven’t eaten or drunk, just lying lifelessly and watching him fly the ship. He will intervene when necessary, he would like to keep his new toys alive, but their condition isn’t critical yet.

 

He can feel the dark side twisting itself into gleeful knots around them, feeding off of their defeat. The despair is beginning to sink into their bones now. They had fought longer than he had expected, but now the struggle had caught up to them. They are physically and mentally exhausted, and being around his force presence is only grinding them down further.

 

Their determination to resist had clouded their minds and he hadn’t had enough time to dig deep enough to pull out the flaw in the death star. His master will surely be angry about that, but he can’t bring himself to mourn for the metal monstrosity. And finding rebels that are able to resist his mind probe so well? A very rare occurrence. 

 

He grins, a painful, stiff movement behind the mask. He has such plans for them.

 

As soon as he’s in range of the fleet, he alerts them to his presence and tells them to prepare to receive the prisoners. Before he can reach the executor, he receives a transmission. His master glares from the small holoprojecter in the shuttle’s cockpit.

 

“Darth Vader. The empire will be overjoyed to know you survived.”

 

There’s a contained rage there, terrible in it’s greatness. Vader had failed when he allowed the death star to be destroyed and his master does not reward failure. The empire sees darth vader as a terrifying, unstoppable force. They can’t know, wouldn’t even be able to understand, that he is only the lapdog to a much more malevolent being.

 

The sith lord’s attention shifts, catching on the rebels behind him.

 

“The rogue one rebels, I presume?”

 

“Yes, master.”

 

“Well, now that you have allowed the death star to be destroyed, we no longer need them. Dispose of them.”

 

“Master, I would like to keep them alive. I believe they could be useful to us.”

 

Plagueis's twisted face crinkles further, a grotesque snarl. He doesn’t take kindly to having his orders questioned. When he speaks, it’s so cold it could freeze the components of Vader’s suit.

 

“And why would that be, apprentice?”

 

There’s extra bite on the last word, a reminder of Vader’s place. He bows his head, bends his massive frame into a submissive posture.

 

“We are seeing a change in the rebellion. With the senate disbanded, they are no longer bothering with fighting us through legal means. Instead, they have become more militant and violent. And vital to this new rebellion is their concept of heroes. Already, the pilot who destroyed the death star has become worshiped. Now, Rogue one have become martyrs of this new rebellion. How damaging would it be to have their heroes turned on them?”

 

Plagueis cackles slowly, a disgusting noise that Vader still hasn’t gotten used to.

 

“Very well. I leave their conversion to you. In the meantime, I expect you to fulfill your other duties. The rebels have fled to a new base. Locate it. ”

 

The holoprojection fades and Vader breathes easier without his master’s eyes on him.

 

He hears a faint noise behind him, the soft swish of fabric as someone moves. Only once one of the rebels begins to speak does he turn to them. It’s the captain, his dark eyes burning in his haggard face. He glares, with only a little bit of fear showing. Only the strongest of souls can look at Vader without trembling; Rogue one continue to impress.

 

“You won’t succeed. We won’t turn against the rebellion.”

 

He’s cut off by the harsh crack of the shuttle docking. The executor looms above them, it’s foreboding bulk calming the agony of Vader’s existence slightly. It’s his home, his domain, and his favorite weapon, all in one.

 

The rebels, thrown about by the docking, struggle to pull themselves back together. The captain’s token resistance has been cut off by his falling into a wall. The other two are too worried about making sure he’s okay to throw about brave words.

 

Vader can’t laugh, but if he could, he would. They will be so interesting to break.

 

The executor's massive bay opens and swallows the shuttle, the rebel’s fear kicking up a notch. The ship encloses them completely, workers crawling through it’s insides like ants swarming a carcass. They converge on the shuttle instantly, their gray uniforms betraying their high rank. Vader can see their soft throats bobbing nervously even through the worn and dirtied viewport.

 

He stands as soon as the landing gear settles against the deck, striding past the rebels. They curl closer to each other as he passes, like rabbits hiding from a storm. He ignores them and exits the shuttle, tattered cape snapping as he steps into the bay. The officer straighten up, spines stiff and shaking slightly.

 

“Take care of my prizes.”

 

He leaves them to wonder what exactly he wants them to do and strides towards the bridge. He has an imperial base to locate; a second failure will cost him in ways he doesn't want to imagine.

\------


End file.
